Promise in the Dark
by laced-scrawl
Summary: Hermione thinks over her secret relationship with Draco on their 6 month anniversary and tries to make some sense out of her complicated feelings towards him, and herself. Rated T for safety. Please Read and Review! x


**Promise in the Dark**

**A/N: **Hey! This is my first Fanfiction that I'm uploading, so I'm a bit nervous lol! I hope you like this one shot – the idea popped into my head a while ago but it needed some tweaking! This is to the chorus bit of the song Promise in the Dark by Keri Hilson – I've always liked the lyrics and wanted to put them to a Fanfiction. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts! x

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing apart from the story idea.

She'd always been good at maths. There was something oddly comforting in the way that a series of calculations could solve numerical problems methodically; like a mathematical jigsaw based on pure logic. Going to a Wizarding academy hadn't doused her passion – it had simply increased her fondness of the art of numbers; leading her to take classes that explored the same (or similar) skills; like Arithmancy and Potions.

It was on a cold March evening, however, that Hermione Granger learnt to apply her mathematical skill to something more complicated than any algebraic problem: her love life.

It was the six month anniversary of her secret and forbidden relationship with the Slytherin prince and serial philanderer, Draco Malfoy. To this very day, she didn't know how it had all started, or why she'd allowed it to continue for so long; the past six months had been the most exhausting of her life, leaving her battered and bruised with emotional scars; wounds that had been cut so deep, that they'd managed to seep into her blood, inking it in a kind of invisible poison - almost a trademark motif of his. Almost every time he touched her, it was as though his fingers scorched lines through her skin, burning through the flesh until it ached and pleaded for cold air and release. She wanted to blame him for making her feel that way, and for a while she'd tried, but she couldn't. He hadn't held a gun to her head after all. But the sparks that flew from his close proximity alone were addicting enough to have the same effect on her.

_**Add how many times I gave my heart…**_

Once their lips had touched for the first time, there was no stopping the events from unfolding. Her life suddenly seemed completely out of her control, and whilst fear of the unknown unsettled her beyond belief, the new air of spontaneity that seemed to engulf her was rather soothing. He'd drag her into abandoned classrooms, old broom closets, deserted corridors and other secluded areas of the school numerous times a day. He'd send hexes to any guy that got a little 'too friendly' with her, send her little notes in class and exchange secretive looks across the Great Hall every evening at dinner – looks that she knew no one else on the planet would have the pleasure of receiving from his translucent eyes.

And she revelled in the feeling his actions provoked, drinking it up as though it was the sweetest pumpkin juice that had ever caressed her taste buds. She organised systematic meetings in the Room of Requirement between them at times where no one would notice that they were both missing at the same time, she'd meet him in the Slytherin changing rooms long after Quidditch practise had ended, and even started to make more of an effort with her appearance – nothing too major, but just enough tweaking that resulted in a bit of attention. He'd glare at any boy that looked at her with interest – especially Weasley, but when no one was looking, he'd smirk proudly, knowing that it was all for him.

…_**to how many times we fell apart…**_

But with every silver lining comes a cloud, and in their case it was a big one. The main problem with a secret relationship was the simple fact that it is a secret - to the outside world they were both single and available. Whilst Hermione had nothing to worry about, aside from making sure that Ronald Weasley knew that she had no romantic interest in him whatsoever, Draco seemed to be at the opposite end of the scale. He was regarded by the majority of the female population of Hogwarts as some sort of sex-God, and had no shortage of girls making advances towards him. Hermione had never asked him for any sort of exclusivity before, not wanting to ruin the perfect simplicity of whatever it was between them. However, when she saw Pansy Parkinson stick her tongue down Draco's throat, she decided that the risk was one she'd have to take.

"You can't kiss other girls!" she'd blurted out when they were alone in an empty Charms classroom, her anger and jealousy finally bubbling over.

He'd looked at her with a mixture of incredulity and annoyance; when they were alone together the last thing they ever did was talk about anything, particularly the issues surrounding them.

"And why is that?" he'd asked in a flat tone.

"Because I don't like it! You can't have it both ways, Draco! I won't be one of your whores!"

"What made you think you weren't already?"

Needless to say, that had ended in an argument of epic proportions, and just like that, it was over.

**…_And it equals…_**

Only it wasn't. How could it be? Desire had gotten them into this mess, and they were trapped in it until it was all burnt out.

They each put up a good fight, their stubborn streaks taking charge of the situation and keeping them apart for as long as possible. They avoided each other as though their lives depended on it, the tension between them getting so thick that even a fleeting glance was dangerous. However, it finally reached its peak, and Draco had wasted no time in grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into the room of requirement after dinner one evening.

As they lay together on the bed, limbs intertwined and bodies glistening with sweat, he'd gently pushed some of her hair back and looked down at her face with a kind of intensity that he'd never used before. Usually his eyes were sparked with lust and desire whenever he looked at her, but at that moment, there was something there that had never been before.

"I won't kiss anymore girls."

She looked up at him with a questioning look on her face.

"You're not one of my whores, Granger. And I'm not going to treat you like one anymore, I promise."

**…_a promise in the dark…_**

She leaned in to kiss him, a small smile painted on to her face. She allowed herself to get lost in the emotion, ignoring the small voice inside her head that screamed '_liar_!'

Over the next few weeks, she did a lot of that; ignoring her conscience for her own pleasure – letting her arrogance dictate her actions instead of logic and reasoning. She became a person that she'd never been before, and it wasn't because he wanted her to be different, or that she wanted herself to be different. It was because she _needed _to be a different person in order to ignore the sensible voice inside her head that was begging her consistently to walk away.

**_So don't promise me_**

She made herself believe that she was right. She'd lie to everyone so much, that it became almost like second nature to her, and go as far as she could to cover her tracks so that she would not be traced back to Draco in any way. She almost went into some sort of over-drive, and consciously began to blur the line between want and need so that it was almost impossible for her to differentiate between the two. She could no longer tell if she wanted his body, his lips, his touch, or if she needed them. But it didn't matter to her anymore.

The problem was that she also began to want his company. Even though the basis of their relationship was purely physical, she'd noticed that behind the cold, hard exterior, there was a funny, sweet and mysterious guy. It was a combination that she'd never seen before, and his complexity attracted her just as much as his alluring good looks.

**_And how many times I gave you me…_**

She began to want to know more and more about him. She developed a method of asking things indirectly, because she knew that if she asked him outright, his defences would go up and she'd have a lot of making up to do in order to get him to trust her again. The more she uncovered about him, the more she began to actually _like _him. She allowed herself the secret pleasure of dreaming about their future; after they left school and were thrown into the grown-up world without a castle to conceal them. She began to think about the 'what ifs' – what if things worked out for them? What if they became an accepted couple? What if they beat the odds and learnt to love each other?

It became uncontrollable, and she couldn't understand what was wrong with her. She'd never felt like this before, and it scared her immensely. She was certain that if he didn't have her addicted to him before, she sure as hell was now.

It was only when she sneaked out of the Gryfindor Quidditch victory party to see him did she realise what had happened. She'd left because she knew that despite the façade he'd be sporting, he hated to lose, and this defeat would have affected him badly. She wanted to make sure that he was ok, to take his mind off everything. It was at that moment that she'd realised that she was hopelessly, undeniably, unbelievably in love with him.

…_**divided by so many memories…**_

Hermione chuckled dryly and continued to add, take away, multiply and divide the feelings by the memories. The only sound was her quill scratching the rough bit of parchment she'd found in her bag. At first she'd mistaken it for a not he'd once written her in Defence Against the Dark Arts; _Astronomy tower, tonight after curfew, come if you're brave enough. _She could remember that night as though it was yesterday.

She'd gone, of course, and had been dealing with conflicting emotions ever since. After they'd engaged in their usual activities, he'd held her close, and they'd talked. At first she'd contented herself with trivial topics that held no importance to either of them, but eventually, her curiosity gave way.

"How long do you think this thing between us will last?" she'd asked in voice that was a fraction louder than a whisper.

He'd taken his time in answering, and for a moment, she was convinced that he wouldn't bother giving any sort of response.

"For as long as we're both breathing. It's called fatal attraction for a reason, Granger."

The mirth in his voice didn't go undetected, and she found herself getting irritated. He had to know how serious she was.

"I love you!" she'd confessed in a voice that was honest, yet held a twinge of desperation.

**…_And it equals…_**

He stiffened and she felt it instantly. In that second she prayed to the high heavens that no matter what, he wouldn't say it back. She needed him to be honest to her and to himself, and not prove her conscience right.

"I – I love you too."

**…_a promise in the dark…_**

Hermione sighed heavily, placed her quill down and picked up the piece of parchment that was now filled with mathematical symbols, words and pictures relating to bits of their relationship. She knew that at that moment, she should have reassured him; told him that he didn't have to say it back, that she expected nothing of him. It would all end eventually, and walking away was going to be torturous enough without the addition of actual sentimental feeling being attached. But she'd kept quiet, partly because she wanted to have her fairy tale moment – to hear those legendary words leave his mouth, and partly because words failed her.

She stood up slowly from her bed, the parchment still in her hand. It was their six month anniversary. Half a year of her life had gone by in a flurry of emotion dedicated to the spawn of the devil. She'd managed to set herself up for heartache – the worst pain she'd ever experience. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to regret it. She was in too deep.

She walked over to the bin, tore up the parchment into tiny, insignificant shreds and turned away without a second glance. She then checked her reflection in the mirror before walking out of her dorm room, her head held high and her thoughts focussed on anything but her own self-inflicted sentence.

_**So don't promise me.**_


End file.
